


Cat Wine

by Whispering_Nightmares



Series: Paws for Effect [1]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Animal Transformation, Cat Q, Cat!Q, Drunk Q (James Bond), Gen, Nothing sexual I swear, Shapeshifting, Sharing a Bed, Worried James Bond, catnip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 14:13:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20229181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whispering_Nightmares/pseuds/Whispering_Nightmares
Summary: Q is in stuck in his cat form and wants some of Bond's scotch, but Bond has a better idea.





	Cat Wine

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in the same universe as a WIP I'm working on where Q can shapeshift into a cat (like there aren't enough of those fics out there already). Shapeshifting is not a normal thing in this universe, and Bond is the only one who knows about it. This takes place partway through the fic, when Q is having some issues controlling his shapeshifting. The inspiration for this scene struck me as soon as I found out that Cat Wine exists and I just sat down and wrote this whole thing instead of sleeping.  
It's quarter to three in the morning now, and I should really go to bed. Enjoy!  
~Edited 09/30/19~

It had been a few days since Bond had taken Q back to his flat. Despite Q’s newly-unpredictable shapechanging, they had fallen into a strange sort of rhythm. Occasionally, Q would be able to muster the strength and clarity needed to transform back into a human, and he would spend hours pouring all of his focus and energy into trying to create some technological aid that would help him artificially regain control over his transformations until he was able to do it again on his own.

At these times, Bond would leave Q to his own devices, giving the man some space and quiet. Q would sit on Bond’s sofa, typing furiously into his laptop or fiddling with some gadget whose purpose Bond couldn’t even begin to guess. Sometimes Bond even heard him making cat-like noises of frustration when something didn’t work out the way he’d hoped. Eventually, however, Q's control would slip and he’d find himself stuck as a feline again, unable to do anything but wait until he was able to transform again. It was exceedingly frustrating, but whenever it happened Bond would be there again to scoop him up, hold him in warm, solid arms, and pet him softly until he started despising his life and miserable situation just a little bit less.

It was during one of these in-between times that Q was curled up in a small black lump on Bond’s coffee table as the man sat down on the sofa beside him. Bond placed a glass of scotch that he’d poured for himself down on the table and Q stood, leaning over to nose at it a little.

"Oh no, you don't," Bond chuckled, snatching the glass out from under Q's whiskers. "You know as well as I do that alcohol is dangerous for cats." Q glowered at him but didn't fight back. "If you want to have some scotch, you can just turn back into a human again and we won't have to worry about it."  
Bond half-hoped to see the cat leap off the coffee table and be replaced by his friend, but Q made no such move. He just looked up at Bond with those wide green eyes and then looked down at the table, seeming almost ashamed at his inability to transform. Bond frowned at the tiny form in commiseration, and then glanced back at the glass he held in his hand.

"Hold on, Q," Bond told his friend, standing up as he suddenly remembered something he had in the pantry. He took his glass with him as he went, not foolish enough to leave it there on the table with Q.

He returned a few moments later, smirking triumphantly as he walked back into the sitting room carrying a bowl in one hand, his scotch in the other, and a bottle full of some kind of pinkish-red liquid tucked under his arm.

"This might be a bit more up your alley right now," he remarked as he set his scotch down again, opened the bottle, poured some of it into the bowl and set it on the table beside Q. Curious, the feline Quartermaster took a couple of steps over to it and sniffed at it. Recognizing a trace of the scent, Q's gaze flew back up to Bond and the bottle he held in his hand.

"It's Cat Wine," Bond chuckled, setting the bottle down on the table beside Q so he could read the label for himself. "Ridiculous stuff for ridiculous people who want to get drunk with their cats, but when I saw an advertisement for it, I thought you might like it."

Q was glad that he was a cat and Bond couldn't see him blush. It was a silly thing, really, but Q was touched that Bond saw something like that and thought of him. He let out a little mew as a thank-you that he knew Bond wouldn't understand, and turned his attention back to the bowl and the wine inside. He'd recognized the scent of catnip right away, and although he tended to avoid the stuff, he had to admit he was curious as to what "Cat Wine" would taste like.

Leaning his head down into the bowl, Q lapped up a bit and his eyes widened. Normally, he wasn't particularly fond of beet juice and had avoided it on the few occasions he'd had opportunity to have any, but the taste of this stuff was absolutely delightful.

_It's the catnip, of course,_ he realized. _I'm going to have to take it easy with this. If I lose my head over it, 007 will never let me live it down._

Which was rather unfortunate, because Q didn't take his own advice at all. He quickly drank the entire bowl and mewed for more, even though he could feel himself going a bit dizzy already. His mind felt incredibly foggy, but in such a pleasant way that he couldn't bring himself to mind. Bond, amused by Q's enthusiasm, was happy to comply and poured a bit more wine into the bowl for his friend before he poured a second glass of scotch for himself.

"I guess this makes me one of those ridiculous people, too," Bond realized with a scoff, taking a sip of his drink. "Sitting at home getting drunk with a cat."  
As it turned out, however, the cat was much more drunk than the man was, and it was only as Q was partway through his second bowl that Bond noticed how affected his friend had become. Purring like a furnace, Q laid down on the coffee table and began to roll back and forth, snuggling around as if he was trying to burrow himself down into the table. He even knocked the remote off onto the floor and didn't even seem to notice.

"Alright there, Q?" Bond laughed, watching his feline Quartermaster flail around on his coffee table. He assumed that Q's continued frantic purring was the answer to that.

"I must say I didn't really expect it to affect you like it would an ordinary cat," Bond admitted, sipping from his glass again as he observed his clearly intoxicated friend. “No offence, of course.”

Q didn't respond, he just continued to roll around on the table, lost in the ecstasy of the wine. Catnip was something that Q normally tended to avoid; whenever he encountered it, he would lose all control of his faculties and revert to the behaviour of an actual cat, which embarrassed him greatly. However, the embarrassment was for later, and at the moment he couldn't really care less. _Thank you, 007,_ he meowed up at his friend like he was speaking words the agent could understand.

"What?" Bond furrowed his brow as he tried to figure out why Q was suddenly making all sorts of bizarre almost-meowing noises. He'd never heard him make those particular sounds before.

_Right. How silly of me. I'm such a silly goose. Silly kitty,_ Q thought, a bit loopy. He'd forgotten that Bond couldn't speak cat.

Q just continued to flop around on the table for a little while, happy and content to be where he was with who he was with.

"Watch it!" Bond exclaimed, yanking the bowl up off the table just in time before Q rolled right into it. He'd narrowly avoided spilling it all over the tabletop and himself. Aside from a detached amusement, however, Q didn't care at all. He just wished Bond would put the bowl back on the table so he could have more of that delightful wine.

"I think you've had enough now," Bond decided, glancing between the bowl in his hand and the inebriated cat on the table. Q meowed in protest, but Bond had already begun walking away to bring the bowl and the bottle back into the kitchen. Q sighed, disappointed that it was gone. However, he'd still had enough of it that he was happy to remain where he was for a while.

As Bond re-entered the sitting room to make his way back to the couch, he watched in surprise as Q laid down and rolled over, falling right off the side of the table. He landed on his back on the hardwood floor, and Bond rushed over.  
"Q, are you alright?" He asked, concerned for the first time that he had maybe given the small cat a bit too much wine. Weren't cats supposed to land on their feet?

Q stumbled upright, finding that he was a bit dizzy and his back hurt for some reason. Bond seemed to be talking to him, but he couldn't quite comprehend the words. _That’s not good,_ he thought distantly. He couldn't think too clearly beyond that. It probably didn't matter. He flopped back down on the ground, all of the energy from the catnip now gone. He did still feel extremely good, even though he couldn't think straight. Purring, he snuggled down and stared off into space. This euphoria was absolutely lovely.

Bond knelt on the floor beside Q, leaning back on his feet as he continued to watch him. As Q completely ignored him, he felt a bit of worry grip his chest.  
"Q, did you hear me?" He asked. There was still no response as Q revelled in the overwhelming amount of catnip he'd consumed. "Q?" Nothing. "Q, can you understand me?"

There was no response apart from the continued loud purring. Bond frowned, beginning to get a bit worried. Although he reasoned that it was just the effects of the catnip and it would wear off, it was still extremely disconcerting to watch Q behave as though he were just an ordinary cat. He felt a sinking in his stomach as he realized that he had done this—he'd been the one to dull Q's beautifully sharp mind. Perhaps he'd made a mistake. Q's reaction to the wine had been funny at first, but now Bond hoped it would wear off soon. He almost couldn't bear to see Q reduced to this state. He had never cared what form Q was in because his mind had always been the same. Now, though, it seemed like his friend couldn't even understand the words he was speaking.

"Alright, Q, come here," he mumbled, reaching out and scooping up the slender black cat with gentle hands. He lifted Q up into his lap and began to stroke the soft fur behind his ears. "You're alright," he whispered, more to himself now than to Q. Q snuggled right up against Bond's stomach, nuzzling his face up against the man's shirt. He meowed, and it still sounded a bit strange. Bond forced himself to keep his breathing even. Q was okay. He was going to be okay.

Bond sat there, stroking Q's gorgeous dark fur for what felt like ages (although it was, in reality, only about ten minutes) before he felt the small body tense up under his hand. Q turned his head and looked up at Bond, tilting his head to the side as if in confusion.

"Q?" Bond asked, embarrassed to hear the hint of eagerness in his own voice. "Are you back with me now?" There was a pause before Q nodded his head, and Bond sighed in relief.

"That catnip must really be something," he remarked. "You completely lost it there for a few minutes." Q, remembering everything that had just happened, was again thankful that Bond couldn't see him blush. How embarrassing.

Leaping off Bond's lap, Q stretched out in an attempt to shake off the catnip haze like it was a dream. After he had done so, he decided that it would be a good time to turn back into himself and regain some modicum of dignity.  
Unfortunately, his body seemed to have other plans. He stood there for a moment and tried to focus to will himself back into his human form, but his mind was still a little fuzzy from the wine and he found himself unable to change back. Enough time had certainly passed now since he’d turned into a cat that he really should have been able to shift back at least for a little while. Looking up, Q mewed at Bond, his ears flattened to his head.

Bond’s brow furrowed at Q's reaction, although he was relieved that Q at least sounded like himself again when he meowed.

"What's wrong?" He asked. Q straightened up and meowed again. “Can you still not turn back?”

Q shook his head, and Bond frowned.

"Oh, Q," he sighed, feeling guilty. "I bought you that wine because...I just wanted to do something nice for you. Maybe even cheer you up a bit." He shook his head. "I guess it didn't end up much help, what with all the problems you’ve been having with turning back into yourself lately, anyway.”

_It_ was _nice_, Q thought, wishing he could say it aloud to reassure his friend. _I'm sure this will fade, too, and I'll be able to turn back before long._

Although Bond obviously couldn't hear Q's thoughts, he seemed to come to the same conclusion.

"It's alright," he told Q. "I'll bet if you sleep off the rest of it, you'll be back to normal again before long." Q nodded, and Bond reached down and picked him up again. Q was always amazed by how carefully James held him when he was like this. This cat body was so tiny and delicate, but he never felt in any danger when he was with Bond like this. The man took such care not to harm him, and his hands felt so strong and warm behind the gentle touch. Q found himself purring as James carried him into his bedroom. Normally he would have been embarrassed by such a lapse of self-control, but since he'd embarrassed himself much more in the last little while and Bond wasn't teasing him about it at all, he didn't mind being just this much more vulnerable around him. He knew he could trust Bond, not only with his physical safety, but with every part of him. He hoped Bond felt the same way.

James entered his bedroom and gently placed Q down on a pillow. As Q nestled himself into it, James shucked off his outer clothing, threw on some old pyjama bottoms, and crawled into the bed on the other side of Q after clicking off the light. Both he and Q knew they should have felt awkward about sharing a bed like that, but somehow it just felt like the right thing to do.

Before long, both man and cat had fallen asleep, and Bond didn't even wake when Q transformed back into himself around three in the morning. All he did was shift a little bit to get more comfortable as Q settled into his human form once more.

Leaning into the warmth of the friend at his side, Q scrunched his eyes shut in the darkness of the room as he tried to hold on to sleep. He knew this moment of humanity wouldn’t last, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to get up out of bed and use his hands for however much longer he’d have them. Q was sure he’d be a cat again by morning, but he also knew he would eventually, if slowly, regain control of himself. For now, he gratified himself to just rest, knowing he was safe here with Bond in whatever form he happened to be in.

As Q faded back into unconsciousness, he was vaguely aware of his body shifting to become minuscule and feline once again, but instead of worrying about it he merely snuggled in closer to Bond’s body heat. With the large, calmly breathing form of the loyal agent so near, Q purred softly as he drifted back off to sleep, knowing that the warmth he felt inside his own small body had nothing to do with the lingering effects of the wine.

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully I'll be able to come back to this and write the proper story in full one of these days. There's a little bit more angst and plot in the real thing, but I just wanted to put this up in the meantime.  
Thanks for reading!


End file.
